


Concentration

by ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers



Series: Golden-Smut [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Rumbelle - Freeform, Spinning Wheel Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers/pseuds/ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle tries to learn magic. Rumplestiltskin keeps distracting her. Belle uses magic to get rid of the distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concentration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cakeinabasket](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cakeinabasket).



                Rumplestiltskin knew this was inevitable, and he had held it off for as long as he could. The threat of memories he shouldn’t recall was too strong but now, as he watched, he wondered what he had been so afraid of.

                Belle was frustrated like Cora had been, but not in the pissed-off ready-to-walk-away fashion. Belle’s frustration caused her to lean closer to the wheel, utterly determined to turn straw into gold. This wasn’t a tower in the face of a death sentence; it was their castle’s dining hall and this was a manifestation of her insatiable appetite for knowledge, any type of knowledge. The purity of her desire to simply _know_ how he did what he did was breathtaking and, even with the similarities, Cora couldn’t hold a candle to his perfect wife.

“Are you going to critique me or are you just going to sit back there and silently brood over what I’m doing wrong?” She muttered. Rumplestiltskin took it as an invitation.

“You’re thinking too much, sweetheart,” he insisted, walking towards her, “Magic is about emotion, working that emotion into a tangible product.”

                His hands rested on her shoulders, covered by her dress. At least it was one of her short sleeved ones, with a delicious cut that showed enough of her chest to make his pulse race but covered enough so he wouldn’t have to run around killing every man who glanced at her. She stiffened underneath his touch.

“Rumple, I want to do this on my own. I don’t want you doing it for me, or I’ll never learn,” she insisted grumpily.

“I won’t, promise,” he said, easing himself down.

                The stool had just enough room to sit both of them, if they tried hard enough. She allowed him to scoot her forward slightly so he teetered on the edge of the seat, straddling her from behind. She leaned back against his chest with a sigh, fingering the straw listlessly.

“You make it look easy,” she complained.

“You say that about everything,” he insisted.

                His fingertips trailed down her arms as he molded around her, breathing in her scent like fresh air. Cora had smelled like flour and something bitter; Belle smelled like sunshine through a library window and something sweet.

“You’re distracting me,” she accused.

“I’m not trying to,” he murmured and she squirmed slightly at the tickle of his words on her ear, “I just felt like cuddling.”

                Her head rested back against his shoulder as she started spinning again, his arms wrapping around her waist as he fought the urge to lap at her throat, taste her flesh and suckle on it like candy.

“Your technique’s good,” he said encouragingly, “You just need to relax…let that heart of yours take over.”

“What emotion am I going for?” She murmured.

                He shrugged, “Whatever gets you there,” he nuzzled her neck, “Find a moment… Imagine that moment… Wield its power and bend it to do your will.”

                She sighed and closed her eyes, her hands moving gracefully, the flesh of her left arm flashing in the whirl. Her mark…a promise to be with him. A sign that, no matter how unbelievable it was, she belonged to him. He would fight to be worthy of that loyalty.

                He watched as a smile played across her lips and he tilted his head to the side.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked gently.

“That day,” she said vaguely, a dreamy quality to her voice, “…you bowed as you gave me that rose. Never mind that it was Gaston, that information came later… But you offered it to me, so shy and hopeful… It was the first time I had seen that part of you, that gentleman.”

                Of course he remembered that…the surprise and coyness on her face, her little “why thank you” before she accepted it and curtsied… That smile that made everything worth it.

                He held her tighter, burying his face in her hair. She continued unperturbed.

“You asked about my life… You sat in that chair and actually _listened_ to me, watching me with this, this intensity… As though it were the most fascinating thing you had ever heard.”

“You were speaking, Belle, of course I acted like it was the most fascinating thing I had ever heard.”

“You let me go to town,” she tugged faster at the straw, “You had no idea if I’d come back or not, but you trusted me, you were willing to let me go because you thought it would make me happy.” She practically yanked the straw off the spindle, her words tumbling out of her mouth rapidly, “But that’s the thing, because I had my freedom, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I wanted to go back, and I had no idea why, until Regina appeared and I realized…”

                She stopped and he glanced down at the thread between her fingers. The golden thread between her fingers.

“…that I loved you. Not just capable of loving you, but really truly loved you.”

                Rumplestiltskin couldn’t just not react to that. He peppered her throat and collarbone with kisses, fingers digging lightly into her waist. Belle’s eyes opened and she beamed as she saw the gold thread in her hands.

“I did it!” She exclaimed.

“Course you did,” he mumbled, nibbling her skin carefully, “The thing that caught me off guard was _what_ triggered the emotion.”

“What, you thought an old feud would give me the anger to spin gold from straw?” She rolled her eyes, “You act as if you never told me that love is the most powerful magic of all.”

                Rumplestiltskin gave a noncommittal hum as he nudged her curls back, running his tongue over the sensitive spot behind her earlobe. She shivered.

“When I think of emotion, I think of love. When I think of love, I think of you,” she whispered, continuing to spin gold, “I have…thousands of moments I could use, moments that bring me near tears just at the recollection. Love powerful enough to enact the hardest of spells.”

                He loved her warmth, and how perfectly she fit into him. He loved the goodness that just came naturally from her when it was so hard for him. He loved her enthusiasm for learning, for always wanting to explore and read. He loved her voice. He wished she’d never stop talking. And the things she was saying right now…

                He threatened to knock them off the stool as he tried to press even tighter to her. Belle continued to spin, unaware of how goddamn sexy she was.

“That day when you saved me from Regina… When you showed me the library of this castle… When I saw what you did for Baelfire… When you “accidentally” lost your coins near a pair of orphans and retreated before they could give it back to you. I know you think I didn’t see that, but I did…”

                He could hear the faint catch of her breathing, her legs spreading to press into his.

“Our wedding day… Our wedding _night_ …”

                He could get the pair of them up in one fluid motion, knocking the stool back and having her braced against the spinning wheel before it even stopped turning. He could hike her skirts up and undo his pants, taking her until the contraption threatened to collapse. He could prevent it from falling over, he imagined; he’d just have to not push her too far forward with every thrust. If he held her in place he could take her hard and fast, have her screaming his name…

“Rumple?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Your erection’s distracting me.”

                Rumplestiltskin did a quick inventory to discover that indeed, between the plotting and the spinning and the recalled memories and holding her nice and close he had obtained a hard-on. Imagine that.

“You accomplished what you set out to do… Now it’s time for a reward,” he purred, hoping an ear nibble would persuade her.

                It didn’t.

                She huffed, “Rumple, I need to learn magic so I can help you with your deals,” she turned to nuzzle his nose with hers, “Just calm the Dark One down for a few hours until I go to bed.”

“The Dark One does not like to be summoned for no reason.”

“I didn’t summon it,” she reminded him.

                Belle leaned down and Rumplestiltskin feared she would get up and leave him. But she had only bent down to grab the scissors. She started cutting the long golden thread in half.

“Perhaps… There’s a compromise,” she mused.

                She touched his shoulder lightly as she stood up, reassuring him that she wasn’t about to up and leave him. She then took his hand and guided him until he turned around, back towards the spinning wheel. She nudged the stool until he was pressed up against it, then draped a section of the gold thread over each of his wrists.

“You’ve used magic on me before… I think it’s time you get a taste of your own medicine.”

                Rumplestiltskin wasn’t sure whether he should be aroused or terrified.

                Belle stepped back and made a gesture with her hand. The gold threads coiled around his wrists then tugged back, spreading his arms and securing them to the spinning wheel. His pupils dilated slightly and, under Belle’s nervous scrutiny, he tested his restraints.

                They weren’t budging for anything less than magic, and he had no intention of cheating. She arched an eyebrow anxiously and he nodded, assuring her that they weren’t too tight or uncomfortable. She smiled and, with her beast firmly chained, went to go drag his chair from the head of the table.

                Being tied up shouldn’t turn him on so much, but the thought of what Belle planned on doing to him in that state had him throbbing.

                She set the chair a couple of feet away from him, close enough to be intimate but not so close that he could attempt to touch her. She leaned back and studied him, bound with his cock straining against his pants, mouth dry and breathing quick as he waited for what was to come.

“Too much,” His lovely sorceress decided, flicking her wrist.

                Rumplestiltskin shivered as his torso was suddenly bare, a few buttons clattering to the floor. Belle winced at her less-than-perfect vanishing spell.

“It’s alright,” he breathed, “Never really liked that shirt anyway.”

                She blushed, and then let her eyes rove over his body. His hands twitched at the desire to cover himself, but the gold threads prevented such foolish behavior. Even after these years he was still self-conscious about his grotesque body, even if Belle didn’t seem to care one way or another. She licked her lips in a maddeningly sexy way, and then the first pulse came.

                He had been nervous that she had done something wrong when he felt the heat gallop through his veins, causing his blood to simmer. But as the odd sensation passed it left a sense of passion and desire in its wake. He gasped and trembled, hands gripping the spokes. Belle gave a pleased little smile and sent another wave coursing through him, this one a little less heat with a lot more electricity. He whimpered and squirmed.

“Gods you’re a fast learner,” he murmured.

                She giggled, “This just comes more naturally, wanting to please you in every way imaginable. Easier to translate into action.”

                Rumplestiltskin’s eyes rolled back as every hair on his body stood up, shuddering at the sensation that felt very much like her nails scraping against his skin. His head tilted back as he stretched his legs out, spreading himself out in front of her and welcoming her to do as she pleased. He met her eyes, those blue orbs clouded with unbridled lust. A searing ecstasy tore through him and he groaned, back arching.

                Lovely way to go. Truly lovely.

                Pulse after pulse of magic washed over him, Belle toying with different sensations from heat to near-pain to this odd desire to open himself up and bring her inside. None of them were unpleasant, though there were some he preferred more to others (the lightening-shooting-down-his-spine a personal favorite). In no time she had him in a sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly nearly in sync with his heartbeat as he panted.

                His cock throbbed painfully against his pants, precum spilling down his shaft. He let out a soft whine that could’ve been Belle’s name at some point, had his brain been allowed to articulate. She smiled at him and his hips jerked forward desperately, nearly unseating him. And then she had the audacity to _giggle_ at his predicament.

                She was forgiven as suddenly there was nothing keeping his length down, it springing up and curving towards his belly. He bared his teeth and hissed his pleasure at being completely naked before her, at her tender mercy. She sent another shockwave through him and he cried out, cock bobbing at the sensation.

“PleaseBelleplease,” he whispered, both wanting and not wanting the moment to end.

                Belle pursed her lips, trying to decipher what he was asking for. She grinned wickedly as she came to a solution, concentrating a little harder on what she was doing.

                It was centralized now, the sensations running up and down his length, circling his tip, squirming around in his balls. He thrashed, not really caring if he took the spinning wheel down with him, not caring how loud he shouted up at the ceiling, just wanting to come.

                He could feel the first involuntary spasms, felt his balls tightening up and the magic propelling his seed out. With a shout that could raise the dead he climaxed, shot after shot of his cum landing on his stomach and chest. His vision whited out for a moment as he shook, letting out a long unbroken moan as he spiraled down from his high into a thick warm contentment. His ears rang and he watched her approach, the lust still in her eyes.

“I like the combination…” She murmured, staring down at his torso, “The milk white against the green-gold… Very sexy.”

                She bent down and, before he realized what she intended to do, her tongue snaked out and lapped at his cum. He moaned, the scene impossibly erotic.

“The tastes complement each other too,” she told him.

                He huffed, considering freeing himself to stroke her hair, “Dearie you shouldn’t say such things or else I will have to exact my revenge for the remainder of the night.”

                Belle grinned, “You’re tied up, remember?”

“Well as you so eloquently just demonstrated,” he said, nodding down towards the last remainders of what had just transpired, “I don’t need my hands to make you come undone.”


End file.
